The Wizarding World's Cinderella
by HaveToLoveMe
Summary: It's a world where mudbloods were slaves. They weren't allowed to use wands. They had no freedom. Yet the line of purebloods was thin. For these reasons, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger are oblivious to one and others existence for some time. So when they do find each other, it's a match made to break the rules. Very AU. Rated T to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This story, as the title states, is loosely based on the story of Cinderella. It won't be exactly like it, but will be close enough. Enjoy!

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor will I ever. I also do not own the folk tale, Cinderella.**

She sat there. Sweeping away the cinders. Slave to a pureblood society. She had no choice. The world was such a dark place. She sighed as she heard Pansy Parkinson talk to Millicent Bulstrode about the latest party, or what they were going to do over the weekend. She longed for friends similar to this; her only friend was Ginny Weasley, an outcast pureblood, known as a blood-traitor. She would only visit Ginny when she could afford the trip, but most the time she was underpaid, and rarely saw her.

She waited everyday for life to get better. For people to treat her properly. She looked up at the picture hung above the marble fireplace. The most handsome man throughout the lands, sat there, with a slight spark in his eyes, but no definite smile on his face. Any ordinary girl would dream of marrying this man. For this man was rich, handsome, smart, pureblood and single.

It was Draco Malfoy.

Bur Hermione Granger was no ordinary girl. To her, Draco Malfoy was an equal. They were both one and the same.

A tear slid down Hermione's cheek as she put fresh coal into the fireplace, and added some more floo powder to the small pot beside it._ I don't deserve this,_ she thought. But she had no choice. None whatsoever. She was doomed to a life of longing and want. She would never be able to fall in love. Never be able to live freely. Laws would probably never change. She was the wizarding world's Cinderella.

* * *

He sat there. Studying his life away. Future heir of a pureblood society. He sighed as he listened to the silence taking over his consciousness. He didn't want a world like this. He wanted a world of peace and tranquillity throughout all blood types. He though of his best friend, Harry Potter, who had been banished from the pureblood society. Half-bloods could only stay respected if they married pure purebloods. He went off and married what Ginny Weasley, daughter of a blood-traitor. Not that he cared. All he wanted was for people to put aside their differences and respect each other. He looked down at the piece of parchment and read the list of mudbloods on the run.

_Dean Thomas (Wanted for inquiry)_

_Colin Creevy (Wanted for disrespect)_

_Dennis Creevy (Wanted for disrespect)_

…

The list was never ending. He picked the paper up and threw it into the nearby bin. He was sick of it. But there was nothing he could do.

_Nothing at all._

* * *

_Everything was wrong for them both. They didn't know each other. But a part of them was missing, like they were meant to be together. It was like a jigsaw puzzle, one where the last piece was lost. Life was a journey of differences for them. A journey that no one could continue. Nobody could complete. An unsolvable Mystery. A hidden Mystery. For them, it was like life's mystery._

* * *

"Are you done yet, Granger?" Shrieked ugly Pansy Parkinson.

"As you can see, no," Hermione snapped.  
"If I receive cheek from you again I swear..."  
"You'll what? Fire me? According to law, you can't do that," Hermione sneered throwing down her brush and wiping off her clothes. She shot Pansy a nasty glare and stormed off to the kitchen, to wash the pots.

"Stupid pug...think...she...can...boss...me..." Hermione dropped the dish she had in the hand into the bowl of dirty water. She searched for the broken pieces, but quickly pulled her hand out as a cut began to form.  
"Damn it!"Hermione yelled.

She hated it. The torture. The pain. The doorbell rang. She heard Millicent shout 'Mudblood' as she went to answer.

"I swear, first chance I get I'm going to throw those two to the dementors," Hermione scowled as she swung open the door, while wrapping a bandage round her hand.

Standing at the door was a rather small man, dressed in fine green robes. Hermione eyed him curiously.

"Yes?" She asked.  
"Don't talk to me like that, mudblood," the man growled."I'm a messenger who has been sent to personally deliver these three invitations to Pansy Parkinson, daughter of Benjamin Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, step-daughter of Benjamin Parkinson, and Hermione Granger, mudblood of the house, who I'm guessing must be you."

Hermione snatched the invitations off the man and gave a small curtsy, as she had been ordered to do, and closed the door.

"Who was it, Mudblood?" Pansy Parkinson spat as she angled the ugly green bow in her hair.  
"A messenger," Hermione answered curtly.  
"Oh really? I'm going to have you whipped for lying. Only filthy muggles such as yourself use Messengers, and as you probably don't know, we would normally use owls. Now give me those," she grabbed the three envelopes out of Hermione's hands.

Hermione made to grab her own invitation back, but decided it wasn't a good idea to get Pansy more agitated. She was used to the beatings, but she preferred not to take them. There were already scars across her back. Hermione stared at Pansy with no emotion on her face. If she smiled, Pansy would tell her she couldn't go, as she took joy in making Hermione as miserable as possible as long as she lived under the Parkinson roof.

If Hermione frowned, Pansy would call her ugly. She was also used to this, but Hermione got irritated, which would cause her to lash out, and she would get whipped even more than she was expecting to.

"So. You've been invited have you," Pansy said slowly.

Hermione gave a slight nod. Pansy laughed out loud. Her laughter was horrible. It was halfway between a squeak and a snort. A look of disgust washed over Hermione's soot-covered face.

"You can go, when you've bought me and Millicent the most beautiful dresses you can find."

And with that, Pansy stomped off upstairs, still holding Hermione's invitation.

* * *

_ Still oblivious of each other. The puzzle is not yet completed. Will it ever be completed? Who knows. All we know is that in due course, people will change. Laughs will turn into cries. Sneers will turn into grins. And an invisibility will turn into lust. We don't how it will happen. We don't know when it will happen. All we know is that at life goes on, all we can do is hope for the best. Hope people will bring out the best in each other. Hope the best points of life come soon. And soon they will come. There's a promise anyone can make_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or the folk tale Cinderella.**

* * *

Draco Malfoy hexed everything he could see. His study was totally smashed up, and there were bits of debris from the reducto spell he was using.

"That...evil...creep," Draco seethed in anger.

He looked around at the room, not caring about the amount of possessions he had just destroyed. His life wasn't what he hoped it would be like as a child. He wanted to live in his own manor, not stuck in one under the watchful eye of his parents. He wanted to play quidditch, not be the manager of a business he loathed.

But most of all, he wanted to find love for himself. His Father was all for arranged marriages. He wanted to ensure Draco married someone worthy to be a Malfoy. But Draco didn't care whether they were worthy or not. All he wanted was someone into the things he was, someone smart, attractive and someone independent. He didn't want to be worshiped, like the majority of the girls in wizard London did.

As he kicked down and blasted his chair, his mother walked in.

"Expelliarmus!" she yelled.

Draco swung round in surprise and glared at his puckering Mother.

"Now Draco, honey, I know you're very cross-"Narcissa Malfoy was cut off as her son kicked his desk which toppled over.  
"CROSS?CROSS!I'M FUCKING LIVID!HOW...DARE...HE...," Draco bellowed.

He picked up his wand from behind his Mother, and lamely fixed the broken items in his office.

"Honey. I don't agree with his decision any more than you do, but-but maybe it's for the best," Narcissa said softly.

Draco took up a bottle of firewhiskey and plonked himself down on the now ripped couch. He looked up at his mother angrily. He stared at her smiling face. He saw reason in her blue eyes that were not unlike his own.

"And how do you work that out?" He whispered sternly.  
"Draco, you're a handsome man and I think you should start looking for someone to share the rest of your life with."  
"That gives my Father no right to a arrange a ball seeking a wife for me - I can do that myself," Draco said through gritted teeth.  
"I know. However, I discussed it with your Father and there's no changing his mind," Narcissa said.

Draco stared at his Mother and thought hard about how much he appreciated everything she did for him. A few moments later, there was a tap at the door. Draco looked around to see a ministry owl.

Draco walked over to the window and took the letter off the owls leg. The owl flew away, and Draco opened it. Inside was a reply to a letter he had recently sent.

_To Draco Abaraxas Malfoy,_

_We have read your later regarding the situation of enslavement of Mudbloods._

_We see you are very angered about it, but there's nothing that we can or want_

_to do. We purebloods have every right to enslave those who have robbed us of_

_magic. It's stealing and there's too many to put in Azkaban. If you want to be_

_treated as lowly as them, so be it. If you want to see how lowly these Mudbloods_

_are and why they are in enslavement, then there is a list of some. They are in order_

of highest offenders.

_Yours sincerely, Craig Tumbleson of the Pureblood Society Board_

Draco looked towards the sofa to see his mother gone. He chuckled at her mysteriousness and took out the second piece of paper in the envelope. He knew he would end up writing another letter and get himself banished if he went through all the mudbloods. So he looked right at the top one.

Name: Hermione Granger  
Age: 23  
Sentence: Slave  
Reason: Too smart for a mudblood.  
Owner: Parkinson

He looked deep into the eyes of the smiling mudblood. He found a certain prettiness about her. She sounded like the kind of girl he really wanted to marry. He scrunches the list up.

Hermione hurried out the door as quickly as she could. She wanted avoid Pansy and Millicent changing their minds about what dress they wanted. They both described pretty ugly dresses too, which made her want to banish the description from her mind. Hermione decided to find a pretty dress for herself, just to rub it in the faces of those who had treated her so badly.

She thought about it...but found it almost impossible. Although she wasn't very self-conscious, she found herself a rather unattractive being. Putting this aside, she hurried along the cobbled path towards Diagon Alley. She received glares from passing strangers, but didn't think anything of it. It happened every time she walked out the door.

She was used to it.

_Later that day..._

Frazzled and blistered, Hermione plundered home with three bags full of shoes, gowns and accessories. _If this is what it's like being a Pureblood, you can forget Mudblood rights,_ Hermione thought. She took a deep breath and jogged down the garden path. If Pansy and Millicent were still up, they'd kill Hermione for being home so late, and she'd get whipped more than she needed to.

She slowly opened the door, only to see thee devil on the inside doormat.

"Where the hell have you been, Mudblood?" Millicent yelled right into Hermione's face. "Me and Pansy had to pick out our own pajamas!"

Hermione looked Millicent up and down. They really did need a mudblood to do all the work for them. And it sickened her. She handed Millicent two of the bags, and stomped upstairs to her room.

Nothing angered her more than the sleaziness of her owners. They didn't know what it was like to wait hand and foot on a pair of ugly step-sisters. They didn't know what it was like to hide intelligence. As far as Hermione knew, they had no intelligence. She looked around at her small and plain bedroom. She scowled at their shallowness, their thoughtfulness, and their dumbness.

Hermione would trade everything she had for freedom. To wander around without receiving glares. To actually use a wand, and not just have the theory hidden in the corner of her mind. But it was all so far away.

* * *

_It's a funny thing, love. It reflects the care two people have for each other. It's an instruction of how to get someone to recognize you. It's something that can never leave the person you give it to, no matter how hard you try. It's unpredictable, yet totally compatible. It follows strict rules, yet never ceases to surprise you. It jumps out at you and screams emotion that nobody can describe. It's the only thing that keeps us homo-sapiens half-pure. All the bad things done by someone, can be diluted, with that simplest of words. Everyone feels it towards someone or something. It's something we all want, yet can't ask for. Love takes many forms. The form that stands out most, is the word. The written word. The said word. The thought word. _


	3. Chapter 3

Draco sat and stared into the fire. His face looked sort of nonchalant, but if you looked into his current thoughts, you would be able to tell he was in a state of melancholy. Two nights from now, he would have to choose a wife that he wouldn't even be able to get to know properly. What scared him to death was the fact that if he chose a girl he thought was all sweet and innocent, she'd turn out to be a sham. He didn't want to look the fool.

The pain he was feeling now may have seemed insignificant to his father, but he felt that it wasn't something to be ignored. He thought that the more he felt upset or angry, he would soon explode and hurt the few people he cared for. He growled with frustration and stood up, stretching as he did. He took a few deep breaths, and took and handful of floo powder.

He needed someone to let his anger out on. He decided to choose someone he knew, but secretly loathed. He thought of people from the study courses he took. The only person he could think of was Pansy Parkinson. He was reminded of her as he looked at the letter from the PSB. Maybe he would meet their mudblood. If she was as nice as she sounded, his day wouldn't be as bad as it looked.

"PARKINSON MANOR!"

Hermione fell back as green flames erupted from the fireplace she was cleaning. She cursed under her breath as she looked over her legs, to see Draco Malfoy, a celebrated pureblood. She scowled as his eyes scanned the room, until finally looking down at Hermione was now sitting upright. Draco's eyes widened, and he raised an eyebrow at her.

"You Pureblood's really know how to annoy a girl," Hermione grumbled.  
"And you must be Hermione Granger," Draco grinned. "Lovely to meet you. Where's Pansy?"  
"She's out."

Hermione walked out the room, wearing a curious look on her face. Why would a pureblood like Draco Malfoy say hello to her, an apparently lowly mudblood? She looked round at Draco. He was grinning like an idiot and a slight tint of red was etched into his cheeks. It was a 'manly blush'.

"How do you know my name?" Hermione questioned.  
"No matter. Please can I have some water?"

Hermione eyes bulged. Not once had someone asked her to get something as polite as he did. A warm feeling she hadn't felt for a long time arose in the pit of her stomach.

"Please blink, you look really unattractive like that," Draco said simply.  
"What's new?" Hermione said a little sadly.

Draco watched her walk out the room. She looked like a simple woman, but if she sorted herself out and wiped the cinders off her face, he knew that she could look like a real beauty.

"Stupid laws," Draco muttered.

He took another look around the room he was in. It looked like a library to him. Part of it was as neat as pin, but in the right-hand corner, it was an absolute mess. Books were piled on either side of a chair that had scrunched-up pillows on and a sheet handing over it. Empty cups lay around beneath the chair, and nothing in that particular corner looked exactly tidy.

A few minutes later, Hermione walked in with a glass of water.

"It's sparkling water, iced," Hermione sighed.

But Hermione was ignored, as Draco was absorbed in a book he had found in the very corner.

"This isn't a wizard book, is it?" Draco asked.  
"No, it's a muggle one. It's called Great Expectations. It's my favorite."  
"It seems really interesting," Draco whispered.

Hermione looked over Draco's shoulder, and scanned the page. Draco felt a brush of hair on his back, but didn't dare look round. He didn't want to ruin the moment. Even if he didn't know Hermione, she seemed like a decent person, making her near the top of the list of the people he liked most. He also felt connected to her, like they'd known each other forever.

Just as he was really getting into the moment, he heard a crack. But he ignored it. Hermione's head was still over his shoulder, so she must've ignored it too. After a few minutes, a squashed-face girl and huge beefy one walked in. As soon as their eyes landed on the close Draco and Hermione, Pansy let out a shriek. Draco and Hermione stepped away from each other. Daggers and smiles were sent across the room, but not a word was uttered anyone.

"Draco Malfoy!" Pansy finally gasped, breaking the awkward silence.

Hermione left the room, fully aware that she did not belong. Only to be followed by Draco Malfoy.

"Why are you following me?" Hermione sighed.  
"Can I borrow this book, please?"

Hermione eyed him up and down. he'd never thought she'd see the day that a pureblood asked to read a muggle book. She nodded and went back to the fireplace. Draco made his way back to the library, where Pansy was fixing her hair. As soon as Draco came through the door, her hands fell in front of her in welcome, which Draco ignored and gave her a forced smile.

"Pansy...just popped by to say hello," Draco said uneasily.  
"Oh, I'm deeply flattered by this Draco! Please, take a seat," Pansy cooed.

Draco sat down in the seat farthest away from Pansy. Just the sight of this Pansy and Millicent made him want to hurl. The dresses they were wearing wasn't making the situation any better. They were covered in huge frills, which made them look like dogs eating cream.

And not the good time.

"So. What were you doing with the Mudblood?" Pansy inquired, still grinning.  
"It doesn't matter," Draco sighed.

The obsessiveness of Pansy reminded him of his worst days in Hogwarts. It seemed like just yesterday he was being stalked by girls, while hanging out with Harry and Blaise. It pained him to think that Pansy was going to continue being the most annoying homo-sapiens on the planet. She stood above him, twisting her hair. Draco looked up in disgust.

"Actually, babe, it does. She's my mudblood and I'd appreciate if I knew what she was doing, smothering a fellow pureblood," Pansy said sweetly.  
"We were reading a book," Draco hissed.  
"Oh, well, that snotty little brat would, wouldn't she?"

Draco glared at Pansy. Did they treat Hermione like this all the time? He wasn't too surprised. He'd seen worst. There were owners who would sell their mudblood, like they were goods. They would treat them like dirt and make their lives worse than they already were. And they weren't even allowed to defend themselves.

Draco shook his head at the misfortunes of others, and looked up and Pansy, who was still trying to make herself look more attractive.

"Get over yourself, honey," Draco said and walked out the door.

He was met by Hermione, who handed him his coat as he walked out the door.

"Thank-you, Hermione," he grinned.

Hermione eyed him again, curiously. She analysed his actions. He was...different to other purebloods. He had certain qualities that other people lacked, and Hermione herself had. She smiled as she knew she was not alone. There was some who thought enslavement wrong.

"Well, see you at the ball?" Draco said, before flooing out.

As soon as Hermione turned around, she received a hand to the face. It wasn't too hard, though. Pansy didn't want to damage her pretty little nails.

"Upstairs. Now," Pansy growled.

Hermione knew what was going to happen. And she was too used to it care.

_They have a connection, a strong attraction. They don't know each other-yet they do. Will they meet again? Who knows. But when they do, we shall all know that if everybody got along, the world would be a better place. We're all one and the same. We're weaker divided, and if every bodies minds connect as Hermione's and Draco's did, we could all live in a world of peace and Harmony. Our incessant behavior of ignorance effects this connection. But to Hermione and Draco, there's nothing stopping them. There's nothing in the way. Nothing but society._


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't Harry Potter or the folk tale, Cinderella.

Hermione hobbled down the stairs and studied the scars on her arm. She sniffed and closed her eyes. She had been tortured for the last hours of the night. She blamed it all on Draco Malfoy. He was the one that showed up and decided to flirt with her - as Pansy said they were doing.

Flirting.

Hermione saw it as simply interacting with the enemy. She told Pansy this, which earned her an extra fifteen minutes of torture. She was scarred, sore, and emotionally beat. Never for a minute would she have thought she'd be huddling with the enemy.

Probably for the first time in centuries, she had almost become friends with a pureblood. Pansy had always dreamed of being the one to put a smile on Draco's face, which was something Hermione did. Instead of smiling at Pansy before he left, a smile was given to Hermione instead.

She then realised, that she had also lent her own property to a pureblood. And it was muggle property. If anyone found out, she would be severely punished. She gulped at the thought. Would Draco really be so spiteful as to tell? He seemed too nice a guy to do so. But a lesson Hermione had learnt in life, was not to judge a book by its cover.

Draco rubbed his hand through his hair as he read Great Expectations. Never had he read a muggle book. He now knew what a mistake that was. It fascinated him in a way he had never been fascinated before. This book was the works. No book in the wizarding world had such detail the book had.

He now knew why it was Hermione's favorite book. He thought about the way Hermione had leaned over his shoulder. He kind of liked it at the time. It gave him a sense of security, and that he wasn't alone in the world. He wondered how Hermione had felt. He knew what mudbloods were like - some of them were much like house-elves. They would punish themselves.

He felt quite irritated with himself then. This was more than a simple matter of borrowing a book. Ever since the population of mudbloods grew, purebloods were cats to a mouse. As much as hated the way the world ran, he couldn't help but wonder…

He had just caused a breakthrough for mudbloods everywhere. If it ever got out, then the Malfoy line as well as the Blacks would be behind bars...and no-one would ever hear from them again. He sighed. What had he gotten himself into?

He then thought about what Hermione would gain from this. She could gain rare authorised freedom. He would be the one punished, for humiliating purebloods and taking pleasure out of something from the muggle world. Hermione had a reason to tell on him...

-_  
_She needed to get out of there, even if only for a little while. She had Pansy and Millicent fooled she was going to buy the groceries, which meant she could spend time with Ginny, and her husband Harry. She had not seen any of them in ages, and she was determined to catch up on what had been going on. She knew that they were leaders of RAPS. It stood for Resistance Against Pureblood society. Of course, it was secret. It had been started in Hogwarts, where mudbloods, blood-traitors and lowly half-bloods were taught in the dungeons. Today was to be the first meeting Hermione had attended in ages, and she was looking forward to it.

She hurried down the street, trying to get to Diagon Alley as quickly as possible. They were to meet in the back of the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione had got all this information at midnight, from an owl she didn't recognize.

_Fifteen Minutes later..._

Hermione entered the rowdy pub. It was full of drunks, old men, business men and women looking for someone to spend the night with. Hermione shuddered in disgust, and went over to barman.

"RAPS, please," Hermione whispered.

The barman nodded, and let Hermione in. She was taken into a tunnel.

"Just go straight on," the barman grunted.

Hermione followed the barman's orders, and followed the dim light that flickered in the distance. Her heart raced as grinned at the thought of seeing all her friends from Hogwarts. She had not been a very good spokesperson in the past for RAPS, due to the fact she couldn't get out of the Parkinson Mansion long enough to attend a meeting. But now she had a chance to stand for what she believed in, with the help of her friends and the people that truly loved her.

The light she was following began to get brighter, until she was in a room with a crowd full of familiar faces she had missed so much. Hermione had forgotten what it was like to be in a room full of amazing people, fighting for there rights. Soon or later, she was being suffocated as a people came to hug her. They all knew she had it worse than them.

After all the greetings, everybody settled down and sat on the wooden benches, while Hermione stood on a chair and looked down at the people all clumped together in the cold stone room. On her right was Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown, and on her left was Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley. She gulped and smiled at all the people gazing up at her.

"As you all know, we're here today to discuss SOP. We, as RAPS, stand against this group of people because we are so wrongly treated as the scum of the earth. Just because we don't fit in with their agenda, doesn't mean they can use us. It's wrong, and I for one am sick of it. One of us in this room saved most of them from becoming slaves like us muggle-borns are. And, I would just like to say Happy Birthday to that person. Happy birthday, Harry."

A clap echoed throughout the room.

"Anyway," Hermione continued, "we need a way to show our annoyance. Protests won't work, neither will reasoning. I think what we need some dirt on purebloods. Something to hold against them," Hermione said, non-stop.

Claps and whistles came from the crowd. Hermione smiled fondly at everyone. This idea was a breakthrough for RAPS. There was NO WAY they would lose this time. Everybody would be free, and her dreams would come true. She could become a healer, an auror, or fight for a cause; a non-secret one. She could have a family, live in a house and die of old age in a small cottage by the sea.

"Any suggestions or anything you know about the wrong-doings of purebloods, please don't hesitate to write it down and put it in the box over in the corner. Thank-you for listening," Ginny yelled over the noise,.

People were all queuing up around the box. People were taking a stand, and that's what Hermione loved about her peers.

_20 minutes later..._

Hermione read through and disposed of all the suggestions. Not one was worthy of putting forward. She sighed and rubbed her temples. RAPS wasn't working as well as she had hoped for. RAPS would have the nation begging on its knees if only they had the strength.

Then she had an idea. It was a silly idea at first, one she didn't want to put into action. It was a suggestion of her own, one that she so dearly wanted to banish from her mind. But she couldn't help wondering...it would scream out everything that RAPS stood for.

"What's bothering you Hermione?" Ginny asked, noticing the forlorn expression on Hermione's face.  
"Nothing..." Hermione said with a sigh.

She received a glare from the red-head, and she had no choice but explain about how Draco Malfoy had came round the Parkinson household, said 'please ', inspected her book corner and borrowed a book. She neglected to mention the close proximity she ended up in with him. It would just cause Ginny to forget the main issue, and cause her to ramble on about how she was 'in there'.

"You mean to say...Malfoy broke the rules?" Ginny gasped.

Heads were turned, and silence filled the room. Hermione blushed bright red and nodded. There was no way she couldn't hide the fact that she really did have some dirt on a pureblood. Especially a celebrated one.

So the plan was, was that Seamus Finnigan, the 'double agent' would go down to ministry, and tell them that Draco Malfoy borrowed a muggle book from a mudblood. Hermione felt really bad about herself. Draco had been so kind to her, and she was about to ruin him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the Folk tale, Cinderella.**

Hermione stared at the newspaper in front of her. She'd just ruined a perfectly sweet pureblood. She shook her head, and then continued with her chores. She had she regretted nothing more then she did then, despite the fact she was bringing the purebloods to justice, just like Raps had been attempting to do since the treacherous days in Hogwarts, where the purebloods were separated from the 'lowly' crowd.

To her, Draco seemed like the opportunity to bring all communities together,

Hermione cleared the breakfast table, her head hanging low in guilt and shame. The more she worked, the more she saw the pain she had probably caused Draco. Draco had nothing against her, unlike other purebloods, and she had just crushed his reputation. Hermione didn't even want to be forgiven. She would take responsibility for her actions, and look them in her face if she had to.

For all she knew, Draco could forgive and forget. He could tell Hermione that she did the right thing, and had freed everyone and everything from the wrath of evil, called the purebloods. Draco could come round and be her Prince charming. She doubted this, though.

Or Draco could be mad at her. He could throw a tantrum and make her life a mysery. He could get her sent to Azkaban. She knew that that the Malfoy's were awfully good at getting their revenge on everyone that stood against them. This is what scared her. Maybe Draco really wasn't the nice man she had though. Maybe he was just like his Father.

Nothing could drive the worry she had from her mind.

Draco ran his hands through his hair, and took a deep breath. If it hadn't been for the respect people had for him, the protection the ministry had for the welfare of purebloods, and the girls that swooned over him, right now he would be sweeping away the cinders with mudbloods.

The thing that angered him most, though, was the mudblood that had sold him out. Draco had covered for her, treated her like a human being, and in return, he revealed that he had broken a law. He looked down at the prophet that he had just read the headline on. He hadn't read the article...maybe there was something in there that could save his reputation that had been so badly tarnished. He picked up the paper and sat down at his study:

**_Malfoy The Supporter Of Mudbloods?_**_  
_  
**Draco Malfoy (23) the celebrated pureblood, may not be celebrated any longer. An anonymous half-blood has recently reported, that Draco Malfoy was said to have borrowed a muggle book off a mudblood. Nobody knows what mudblood, but as soon as we find out, she/he will either be severely punished if it turns out she offered or agreed to lend Draco Malfoy the book, or freed if she agreed the book to Draco Malfoy or it was stolen from her.****_ There are no witnesses to this, but it is said the Mudblood admitted this to a group of people. This could really ruin the reputation of the Malfoy's that are by far a most respectful family-More on pg.11_**_  
_  
Draco sighed. He couldn't read anymore. He had been betrayed by someone he thought was a quite worthy mudblood.

The only way that Draco was to be calmed down, was to see mudblood Granger and give her a lesson on keeping yourself to yourself.

"It was you wasn't it?" Pansy hissed. "That's what you really did yesterday. You went to the ministry and told on Draco. Oh, there's hell to pay."

Pansy took Hermione and pinned her to the wall, with her back bare and her face squeezed to the wall._It's going to be worse than yesterday __night,_Hermione thought. She closed her eyes and waited for the sharp whip to scar her back more than it was scarred. She thought this more inhumane than the cruciatus curse, or other curses made to inflict pain. This one was done by hand, it was meant to be done, the force was controllable.

Hermione closed her eyes tight. She didn't want to show her pain. If she did, she'd get it worse. She waited for the tenth whip. And it struck her like lightening. Hermione was let go. She dropped to the floor and tried to hide the tears. Her back was sore, and nothing she could do could heal it. She wasn't studied in hand magic, and she obviously didn't have a wand. The pain was unbearable. Scar covered scar, and the cold trickle of blood stained the creme carpets.

It stung like hell. Though she thought hell was better than this. At least there, she would not be laughed at. Because that's what Pansy was doing. She was laughing. If only she could feel what Hermione was feeling now. Hermione was woozy from the blood lost. The sharp whip turned her back into a maze. Hermione was trying to hide the pain as best as possible, but she couldn't hold back the deep breathes and small tears falling down her cheeks.

"Clean that up, mudblood," was all Pansy said.

_Pain hurts. It causes scars on our skin and in our hearts. Now matter how much you try to hide it, every bang bump, bruise and heartbreak stains your thoughts. Pain is indescribable. It is everyone's enemy. It won't kill you, but makes you want to be killed. That's how evil pain is. Pain kills off good thoughts. Leaves you with cold. A cold that cannot be cured by cough medicine, a cold that stays with you till your twilight years and beyond. _

Draco arrived in an eruption of green flames at the Parkinson Mansion. He wanted to see Hermione, ask her why she had told, explain to her the trouble she had caused, and if more anger built up inside if him, he would punish her for it.

He looked around and saw no one was there. It seemed like the bottom floor was completely deserted. The only signs of life was the daily prophet on the floor. He shuddered at the heading, and made his way up the stairs.

He was more successful up there. He heard what sounded like Pansy stomping around. That was the wrong door. He would never get to Hermione if he acknowledged Pansy. So he walked a few more doors down. He hit the jackpot. He heard moving around inside, and just assumed it was Hermione. Without so much as a knock, he opened the door. Hermione was kneeling there with a bucket full of water and a small rag. She was crying onto the floor, and scrubbing it as she did.

Hermione looked up with fright in her eyes. If it was Pansy, then she had apparently done something wrong like mixed the colour-ordered shoes up. But someone worse was there. Hermione stared up at Draco.

Draco stared back.

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife. Draco pitied her, as Hermione pitied him. Draco pitied Hermione for the pain she was in. He saw the bloodstained carpet, and the slashes over her arm. He pitied Hermione because he had everything and Hermione had nothing. He pitied Hermione, because she was more than what people saw her as. She was pretty, intelligent and hard-working. Yet no one but the ministry new it. But she was also different. She was a mudblood. And that's why the truth about Hermione was hidden from the world.

And Hermione pitied Draco because he had everything. He didn't have to work to gain the fruits of life. And to her, the work was the adventure. Draco lacked reality. He was stuck in a pureblood mania he could never leave. She pitied him because he didn't know the truth. He didn't know, that in the real world people strived for the freedom he had. It made Hermione think that Draco wasn't as smart as people portrayed him.

"Why?" Was all Draco asked.  
"I didn't want to, but I had to," Hermione whispered. "I told the Half-Blood the Prophet was talking about, about how you borrowed the book because I thought there would be more freedom opportunities for…mudbloods."

Tears were now streaming down Hermione's face. She couldn't help it. Draco was standing there with an angry look on his face. The same Draco that had been so nice to her a few days before.

Draco was even angrier now. She did it for her own good. Draco assumed that she didn't even stop and think. Draco was now angry enough to punish her. He picked up the whip and held it up. Hermione cried harder. Draco, not taking his eyes off Hermione, walked round to what he saw as her bare back. He could see a few slashes oozing with fresh blood. She had recently been whipped probably by Pansy.

Draco stopped and thought. What good was he getting out of this? There was none. He was harming someone who was worked to death already, and lived in hell. Whipping her because of his anger was a bad idea. He'd feel like a criminal. Never before had he hit a mudblood. Never. He heard the door creak, and someone come up behind him.

"Do it Draco...do it," Pansy hissed into his ear. She had obviously snuck up behind him.

Hermione looked up at him with watery brown eyes. And that's what got him.

"You're not forgiven," he said in monotone.

And with that, he threw down the whip and left.

* * *

_We all pity someone. There's the poor people, disabled people, ill people, lonely people, those without love, and those with no clue what love is. We should have a major in pitying the people who live for nothing, only themselves. Those who don't want to live, and only live __because__ they have to. Pity those with no heart, pity those who feel incessant pain. Pity is when you feel sorry for someone. As Dumbledore said:__  
__-"__Do not pity the __dead Harry. Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love.__"_


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the folk tale Cinderella.**

* * *

She lay there. Chores done, everything tidy. She tried to think happy thoughts, but she was trapped in her own world of despair. She felt dirtier than people treated her. She had used someone to get what she wanted, and it didn't work.

Which just made matters worse.

Tomorrow was the night after was the ball that Pansy and Millicent were so keen on attending. Hermione still wanted to attend, but was a slight bit reluctant to do so. She would see Draco there, and for all she knew, the ball could be the place she was going to be avenged. This gave her a cold and empty feeling inside. The cold and empty feeling a criminal got. And when she felt cold and empty, she couldn't do so much as pick up a book.

Draco tried his best to pick out a suitable pair of dress robes for the ball. But he felt guilty and upset. Just upset. Not angry, or depressed. Simply upset. Not because his face was plastered all over the Daily Prophet, or he had just been yelled at by his father for the past half hour. It was because he nearly whipped a mudblood. Not once had he even thought of doing so, yet just yesterday he had thrown a whip down beside Hermione. It killed him inside to think of the cruelty he witnessed. He was about to add to the pain Hermione had, and every time he thought about it, it killed him inside a bit more.

He looked at the endless racks of dress robes. He wondered why any of this mattered, when out there mudbloods were getting endlessly hurt. He regretted not forgiving Hermione. He now vaguely realized what it was like to be taunted about every little thing, to be trapped as a slave. He should've told Hermione he understood her actions and agreed with them. He wasn't thinking logically enough at the time, and he let his anger take over him.

He randomly took a pair of dress robes off the rack, and went to pay for them. As he did, he received a random glare from the shopkeeper. He cringed and gave the man the money, leaving the shop. Outside his mother and a young girl met him, about his age. His mother smiled at him, hoping to cheer him up.

"Hello, dear," Narcissa said softly.  
"Hi." Draco said grimly.

Narcissa gave Draco a sympathetic look, and took him by the arm, leading him towards the leaky cauldron.

"We'll go here for a drink, and I'll introduce you to Violet," said Narcissa.

They all chose a table by the window, close to the counter but away from prying eyes and those who may curse and attempt to intimidate Draco. Narcissa called over a waitress, and asked her for three firewhiskies.

When the waitress gave them all their firewhiskey, Narcissa smiled at Draco in front of her, and Violet on her right. Draco looked at Violet who was trying her best to avoid any eye contact between anyone in the pub. Draco had to admit, she was pretty. But not the kind of pretty Draco liked. As Draco thought this, Hermione came to mind, which made him cringe again.

"Well, Draco this is Violet Preston. She's my friends daughter, and Violet this is Draco, my son," Narcissa said happily.

Draco held out his hand, which was shook by Violet who was barely smiling. She looked kind of scared and unsure, which put Draco on an edge. He looked at his mother, back to Violet, and again at his mother. His mother was grinning from ear to ear and looking out the window. He then knew that his mother had tried to set them up.

_Never feel guilt, unless absolutely necessary. Think about reasons behind your actions, positives and negatives. It will open your eyes to __opportunities__ in what you did. Feel guilt, and all you'll think about is what could've been and not what's meant to be. Whenever you do something stop and think for a while, and you'll live life to the full and rarely be burdened with the terrible feeling of guilt. Just when you do __something__, look for the most exciting answer._

Draco rolled his eyes as he ticked off preparations for the ball. He really didn't want to be doing this, but he had earned it. After he yelled at his mother for trying to set him up, making Violet cry, swearing at a reporter and at his mother, he was earned he job of preparing for the finishing touches of the ball, and a new headline with his face under it. Not that he cared. Everything he did was all worth it, for now he was alone to be upset, and reflect on his guilt.

Just as he really settled into a utopia, and was ticking off butterbeer instead if firewhiskey, his father rushed in and threw the Daily Prophet right in front of him. Before Draco looked down at the newspaper, he look up at his father who had a smirk plastered on his face, not unlike Draco's. To Draco, this meant good news, and he picked up the Daily Prophet. It wasn't exactly what he had been hoping for.

**_The Half-Blood Lied_**

_**Recently, an article had been posted in the Daily Prophet, stating the heinous doings of Draco Malfoy, the celebrated pureblood. He had apparently borrowed a muggle book of a mudblood, but a case was put forward in favor of Draco. According to the half-blood who was dressed fully in black and still can't be named, the whole 'Draco Malfoy borrowed a book' was all a trick to ruin the Malfoy's. He would not say why he would want to ruin the Malfoy's, nor shall it be ever known. But we assure you, the Malfoy's are back to normal.**_

"Glad that's over. Thank-you Father," Draco sighed.

"No problem, but I want something in return," Lucius said bluntly.

Draco tried to analyse his father's face, but couldn't tell whether it was a small favor or a huge sacrifice. But he couldn't decide what it was, after Lucius asked what he wanted in return.

Hermione did a little victory dance in the middle of her room, as she read the prophet in her hand. She ran across the hall with a big grin on her face, and burst into Pansy's room. She wasn't even annoyed when Pansy and Millicent were cutting their nails all over the floor. She thrust the newspaper in Pansy's face, and carried on jumping about.

"Oh, lucky you," Pansy drawled.

"Isn't it great news? I mean I..." Hermione instantly stopped smiling when she saw Pansy's face. "I'm happy the Malfoy's are no longer under the strain of the public."

Hermione backed out the room, and went to tidy some more. She was over the moon. The strain of the guilt was finally off her shoulders, and she could live the rest of her life as a normal mudblood. As normal as a genius mudblood could get, anyway. She hummed her favourite tune sung by The Weird Sisters and folded clothes happily for the first time in days. She would be able to tidy without sniffing and eat without spitting it out again.

To celebrate, Hermione started making a feast fit for a queen. Or whatever Pansy thought she was. She wasn't even disheartened by the fact that even though Pansy enjoyed the feast, she yelled at her for messing up the kitchen. Instead, she ended the night with a sweet 'goodnight Pansy'.

To anyone else, this would have been a reason for a small party. But to Pansy, it was time for sabotage. She knew for a fact Hermione liked Draco, and she didn't want her to get in the way of her plans of making Draco hers. She knew that Draco was way out of Hermione's league, but Draco didn't hit Hermione like he was rumoured to frequently do to mudbloods. This gave her slight suspicions that Draco returned the feelings. _Yes it's time for sabotage,_ she thought.

* * *

_-"Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times. If only one remembers to turn on the light."-Dumbledore._

_This, I think, is one of the greatest quotes of all time. It shows the message that people need to seek happiness. We want to be happy, to smile to laugh. There's one thing that stops us from reaching our goal of happiness. If only one remembers to turn on the light - instead of spending our time fretting over our small misfortunes and worrying about what's going on, search for your happiness. Don't forget what happiness is. Forget the dark times we live in, and remember to love life and be happy. It's not that hard-just remember to turn on the light._


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the folk tale Cinderella**.

* * *

It was the night of the ball, and Hermione was rushing around, attempting to get Pansy's and Millicent's things ready. She had no time to gather her accessories, or even iron her dress. It was just work, work, work, all day from 7.00am. Pansy had insisted on getting up early to get ready. Despite the fact they got up early though, they were still in a huge rush. There was fifteen minutes to get to the ball. Pansy needed to accessorise, and Millicent's hair still hadn't been finished.

Hermione looked more frazzled than ever. This was harder work than she was normally forced to do. And she feared she wouldn't be able to get ready for the ball in time. Time grew short, and there was only ten minutes left to get out of the house. Pansy and Millicent were all ready, but Hermione was still searching for her dress. She had left it on her bed, with the door locked-the dress wasn't in her room.

She was really starting to worry now. She searched and searched, ignoring the selfish calls from Pansy and Millicent to hurry up. As Hermione looked in the washing machine, to see if it had accidentally been put in the wash, all hope of attending the ball was lost.

The dress was no longer an elegant white. It was now a cloudy grey, and it was ripped at the seams. The hem was frayed and the sleeves were in thin shreds. It was completely ruined. Hermione's first ever pretty item since entering the wizarding world, was now no more than a clump of forgotten dreams.

"Somebody jinxed the settings!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Oh, I didn't need a wand to do that. So technically, it's not a jinx," Pansy said smugly from the shadows.

"You...did this?" Hermione croaked.

"I don't know why you're so surprised. You were going to take all the attention from Draco away from me," said Pansy disgustedly.

"So you ruined it for me? You're just a cruel, selfish, arrogant pug-face. I hope I'm not the only one to tell you that," Hermione spat, not bothering to look at her. Her eyes were still fixated on the dress.

Hermione heard the door slam, and figured Pansy must've stormed off. Now she was alone to weep by in the laundry room. She felt as if there was no hope for her now. She would just have to live her life as the mudblood she was, rubbing at Pansy's old bony feet. It wasn't how she imagined her twilight years.

How did she get to this? When she was a little girl, she lived happily with her parents'. She would go to Primary school like a normal child. Then she got a letter. Her Hogwarts letter. She went to Hogwarts. She found out she was to be taught separately from most of the purebloods. The only purebloods she really knew, were the Weasleys and Neville Longbottom. They were either blood-traitors, or were against being separated from the mudbloods.

She went to Hogwarts, went through many adventures, got outstanding in all of her O.W.L's, apart from in D.A.D.A, she skipped her seventh year, helped save the Wizarding world, then found she had to become a slave, with not even a thank-you from the purebloods against the Voldemort movement. She went from hero to zero. Nobody knew what she was capable of. Nobody understood that she was being wasted. She was just a mudblood.

She sat and sobbed for a good ten minutes. She had lost all hope of Pansy coming back with a brand new dress for her. Who was she kidding? Pansy was cold and heartless, with not an ounce of decency in her head full of boys and nail varnish.

Hermione closed her eyes tight, and tried to forget the world. But it was impossible. Not because she was not going to the ball, or because she still had the washing-up to do.

It was because she heard noises coming from the kitchen. She wiped away her tears, and picked up a wet cloth that was on top of the washing machine. If someone broke in, Pansy would literally kill her.

She cautiously got up, hoping not to alert the person mysteriously in the house. She crept closer and closer to the door, peering through it. To her surprise, a familiar house elf was tripping over all sorts of pots that had been dropped in the rush to the ball. Hermione threw the cloth down and made her way towards the house-elf.

"Winky?" Hermione said just to be sure.  
"Ohhh, Hermione Granger! Winky is deeply sorry for what she did in Hermione's fourth year. Winky should've listened to Hermione. Hermione saved the wizarding world! In return, Winky shall get you to the ball!"

Hermione laughed out loud and sat down in front of the elf.

"Winky is serious, Hermione. It is only fair to pay back kindness," squeaked Winky.

Hermione was so dazed by this randomness. Sparks of hope began erupting in her mind, but how did she know she could trust this little elf? She knew how harmless Winky was, but her masters weren't at the top of the nice list. Maybe Winky had learned a few tricks…

"I totally doubt you can get me a dress, a ride and a wand to show my identification. The only way I can go, is if Pansy gives me my wand, and it's in her room, and that's locked," Hermione said quickly.

Hermione looked like she was about to cry again, but she was stopped from doing this when Winky smiled excitedly and jumped in pleasure, her eyes wide and her tomato nose flaring with excitement.

"But Winky has all those things, miss!" Winky exclaimed.

Hermione almost fainted with happiness and shock. Her wand. Vine, dragon heartstring 10 3/4inches. She felt like a real wizard again as she took it from Winky. She felt like a wizard again. The same wizard who had saved the world all those years ago...

Hermione literally picked Winky up and spun her around. The elf had helped her out of the dark, and she was more than grateful for this. Hermione put Winky down and smiled down at the elf with tears in her eyes. Hermione twirled her wand in her hand with complete lust for the magical item.

"Now, wait. Winky will go get the rest of Hermione's items," Winky said excitedly.  
"But-" Hermione was cut off by a 'pop'.

Winky had disappeared.

_10 seconds later..._

Around Winky's skinny waste was a big bag. Hermione, too happy to speak, questioned Winky with her eyes. Winky understood, and took the bag off her waist. She handed the bag to Hermione and waited for Hermione's reaction as she looked inside.

Hermione brought out a beautiful pink gown, and a pair of glass slippers with a mask and a necklace. Her mind was suddenly transported to the world of Cinderella. That's exactly who she felt like ... Cinderella.

Hermione grinned down at Winky. With a joy-filled swish of her wand, Hermione was dressed in the gown with her glass slippers. Her life had suddenly got better, all because the simple action from a house elf.

"Follow Winky!" Winky said in her piping voice.

Hermione nodded and grinned even wider. Hermione followed Winky to the door, and opened it as Winky couldn't reach.

Outside was a grand carriage, complete with thestrals. Hermione remembered when she couldn't see thestrals. The war had changed that for her. The animals were still beautiful.

"Thank-you, Winky. For everything, "Hermione whispered as she rode on into the moonlight.


End file.
